What is Benedictine spirituality?

The word monastery (from the Greek monos - alone) applies to both female and male communities. Historically, 'convent' also applied to both genders, but today has come to mean solely female communities. The word 'monk' can also apply to both genders as it comes from the same Greek root, and some women use it in preference to 'nun'. I tend to use 'monastery' and 'monastic'.

And let's not get into the difference between nuns and sisters, nor a cenobite as opposed to a hermit and how a hermit may be different from an anchorite! Although it's all quite interesting - perhaps a whole sub-category of monastic geekdom...

Benedict was born in Nursia, in the district of Umbria in Italy, at a time of turmoil in Europe. The Roman empire was disintegrating, there was war and rumour of war. Principalities and fiefdoms engaged in power struggles.

Although we don't know all the historical details of Benedict's life, it seems certain that he was one of the original college drop-outs! As a young student in Rome, he turned away from the decadence of the city and for three years lived as a hermit in a cave in Subiaco, near Rome, helped by a local monk, Romanus.

He began to attract followers, and after a couple of unsuccessful attempts at living in community, left with a few loyal monks to form the community at Monte Cassino, about 80 miles southwest of Rome.

A sidebar is interesting here: Benedict is sometimes portrayed in pictures with a raven by his side. There's a legend that at one of his early communities, a jealous priest tried to give him poisoned bread. Benedict had been accustomed to feeding a raven, or crow, from his own hands and on this occasion he asked the raven to take the poisoned bread and fly away with it, dropping it where it would never harm anyone. An interesting legend given the magical significance of the raven and crow in shamanic belief and folk customs.

It was at the growing monastic community at Monte Cassino that Benedict wrote his Rule, which spread throughout Europe in the Middle Ages as Benedictine monasteries and their influence grew.

Although St Benedict based his writing on earlier monastic texts, including one known as the Rule of the Master, Benedict takes a much more measured and human approach than was common at the time. He writes with humility, and the life of Christ is the bedrock upon which his writing rests.

Benedict is gentle with his monastics; he doesn't invent severe punishments or an unnecessarily ascetic life. The Rule encourages a balance between work, prayer and study. It emphasises the welcoming of guests and being of service to each other. It is something of a communist regime in that Benedict's monks did not own anything of their own; the community provided all that is necessary. The monks would have warm clothes and enough to eat. They would also receive the immaterial things such as sufficient sleep, and care for the sick and the vulnerable.

Benedict is startlingly modern in his discussions concerning the Superior of the monastery. Some of what he says could come directly from the pages of a modern management handbook. For example, when making a decision, the Superior must consult the community:

"Whenever any important matters have to be settled in the monastery, the abbot should call together the whole community and himself explain what is to be discussed. After he has heard the brethren's advice, he should reflect upon it, then do what he judges best. Now, the reason for our saying that all should be summoned for counsel is that the Lord often reveals what is better to a younger person."

No autocratic bullying bosses allowed!

And elsewhere, the Superior is told to consider individuality in dealing with her flock:

"...one, indeed, to be encouraged, another to be rebuked, another persuaded, each according to his nature and intelligence. Thus she must adapt and fit herself to all..."

To me, the most important word in the whole Rule is the very first: "Listen..."

I once read that the mark of a bad actor is one who doesn't actually listen to the line of dialogue to which he is to reply. We all do that. We engage in conversations thinking only of what we are going to say next, not really listening to our companion. Just imagine how much better our lives would be if were to do only that one thing: really listen to each other.

Mind you, Benedict isn't really talking about that sort of listening. He is preparing the reader to listen to the teaching of the Rule. He goes on to use the phrase "bend close the ear of your heart". This life is not a dry listening to words, it is a complete immersion of the intellect and the emotions.

It's remembering with every sunrise and sunset that even if we live alone, we are part of a wider community. It's developing practices of prayer and contemplation and living with grace and presence. It's being of service to that wider community, and if we don't already, It might be learning to love ourselves as well, to be kind to ourselves. It's listening: to others, to life, and to that 'still small voice' within.

The Rule is curiously timeless. It can give our modern lives focus, structure and depth, as well as a wealth of practical advice.

Benedict goes into great detail on elements such as the arrangements for eating, for receiving guests, for monks going on journeys etc. His advice even extends to the way in which the everyday tools of the monastery are to be treated - with reverence:

"She will regard all the utensils and goods of the monastery as the sacred vessels of the altar, aware that nothing is to be neglected."

How would it change our lives if we were able to see the everyday objects we use as sacred? Perhaps it's fairly easy to see paint brushes, pens and other tools of explicit creativity in this way. But what if, instead of grumbling about cleaning the sink or doing the ironing, we were to see the dishcloth or the iron as if they were sacred. What about the computer as a sacred object? (OK, if you're on a Mac it probably is, but you get my point!) Would remaining in the moment while doing those things help to make our whole lives a creative endeavour?

Joan Chittister, a gifted Benedictine monastic and writer, has this to say:

"To those who think for a moment that the spiritual life is an excuse to ignore the things of the world, to go through time suspended above the mundane... let this chapter be fair warning. Benedictine spirituality is as much about good order, wise management, and housecleaning as it is about the meditative and the immaterial dimensions of life. Benedictine spirituality sees the care of the earth and the integration of prayer and work, body and soul, as essential parts of the journey to wholeness that answers the emptiness in each of us."

Prayer is the cornerstone of Benedict's Rule. He devotes several chapters to what prayers should be said, when and how. Today, most monasteries devote time to private and to communal prayer, meeting together several times each day to pray the Psalms together. Some stricter houses still rise in the middle of the night for prayer, but this is becoming less common.

How does this translate to modern life and the need to commute to work, sort the kids out for school, look after a dependant parent or all three? We each have to work out for ourselves a rhythm that suits us, and this may change at different times of the year. There may be times when no formal prayer is possible, and on those days I like to remember the words of medieval mystic Meister Eckhart (not a Benedictine but a very wise man): "If the only prayer you said in your whole life was 'thank you', that would suffice."

And in any case (as monastics everywhere will testify), it's far too easy to mouth the words or sing the Psalms while your mind is a million miles away - formal prayer is not always what it appears to be. It's the awareness and the effort that counts.

There's one other ancient prayer practice that most monasteries use which can be extremely rewarding. It's called Lectio Divina, literally sacred reading. I will write a separate lens about that soon, meanwhile there's a link below to an excellent article about it. I've also linked to a book by Christine Valters Paintner and Lucy Wynkoop OSB called, succinctly, Lectio Divina. Highly recommended. (Full disclosure: Christine is a friend of mine, but that doesn't make her any less gifted spiritually!)

For anyone wanting to explore Benedictine spirituality, my best advice is to do some reading first. I've listed some books below. A word of caution: depending on the translation, the Rule of Benedict itself can be a little tough to take on first reading. For example if you're a woman, the language can seem unremittingly masculine. So try a couple of different translations or, better, one with a substantial commentary. Joan Chittister's is excellent.

Still not put off? Visit a few Benedictine monasteries and spend time there. There isn't, as far as I know, one complete directory of Benedictine communities worldwide, but the links at the end of the article should provide you with some starting points.

One option, if upon further investigation you think Benedictine spirituality is for you, is to become a 'lay' member of a monastic community, an Oblate (a rather clumsy word from the Latin oblation - offering). This is someone who associates themselves formally with a particular Benedictine monastic community and, while remaining in the outside world, lives in accordance with the spirit of the Benedictine life.

Unless you're thinking of actually joining a monastery as a monk or nun, it doesn't usually matter whether you are the same gender as 'your' monastic community, and it's irrelevant whether you are single or married, whether or not you have children or how old you are. Depending on the monastery, it may also not matter whether you are Catholic, Anglican or Orthodox, although it would be unusual for a non-Christian to become a Benedictine Oblate. Again, depending on the monastery, it may not matter whether you are gay or straight.

If you want to take this route, don't pick the first community you visit unless you get that immediate feeling that you've come home in some way. Becoming an Oblate is in many ways the start of a journey, not the end of it, and in any case there's a period of preparation and probation.

Blessings on your journey.